A/N: Hello there! Welcome to strongGreat Britain/strong for Round 4 of the FIA Formula One World Championship! The sky, as so often is the case here, is grey and full of clouds!

Okay, but seriously. This story is a short story themed on Formula One, which takes place on the Easter Weekend of 2000 (though the holiday is never mentioned in the fic) as it is the day the real race took place. This story's main pairing is Harry/Hermione, and their relationship is of the "soulmates meeting for the first time" variety. Which means loads of fluff and quickly developing feelings! (Kinda had to considering the timeable). If you don't like it and prefer more realistic relationship, that's fine! But I wouldn't recommend reading this story.

This story was also written in a way that even non-F1 finds should be capable of following and finding enjoyment in (if only a bit less than the fans). It is, after all, written from Hermione's perspective, who is not a fan herself, and thus need to be told a lot to follow - which allow the reader to receive the same information.

Enjoy this story!

Hermione sat down on the passenger side of the car as she observed the country road pass by.

"I can't believe it..." her father muttered for the fiftieth time that car drive. Hermione rolled her eyes in fondness.

"Has it still not fully hit you?" she quipped to her father.

"I'm not sure yet." he answered truthfully. Hermione chuckled. "I mean... we're going to the race!"

"Yep."

"To the British Grand Prix."

"Huhan." she hummed positively.

"A Formula One race..." he whispered excitingly.

"Yep." she repeated, shaking her head in fondness.

Hermione could not blame her father for being excited. If there was one thing Hermione was as sure of as the presence of the sun in the sky, it was that her father Daniel was a massive Formula One fan.

One of her earliest memories were of sitting on her father's shoulders at the 1984 British Grand Prix at Brands Hatch, observing the loud cars race around the track with mild interest. She remembered her father complaining about the retirement of Nigel Mansell (his favourite driver) to his friend who came along that day.

Because, while Hermione herself never had any real interest in Formula One or motorsport in general, growing up with her father meant she could not avoid knowing the famous names of the sport. James Hunt, Nigel Mansell, Niki Lauda, Alain Prost, Ayrton Senna, Gerhard Berger, Damon Hill, Michael Schumacher - all were names she was more than familiar with simply because of her father.

To make it simple, Daniel Granger loved Formula One. It was why Hermione decided to give him a pair of tickets to attend the 2000 British Grand Prix at Silverstone as his birthday gift. She might have no interest in the sport itself, but she loved the idea of going to the race with her father and giving him the best birthday present she could.

And, the British Grand Prix had come. Her father decided to bring her along to the Grand Prix and Hermione accepted. She wasn't there for the race itself - though she was sure to find it interesting to some degree - but to spend time with her father doing what he loved the most: watch Formula One.

"Did I tell you you are like my favourite daughter ever?" her father suddenly spoke.

"I'm your only daughter, Dad." she said, a chuckle escaping her lips.

"Well, you always were my favourite." he told her with a laugh. But then, he put his right hand on her shoulder. "Still, you really are a great woman, Hermione - and I'm not just saying that because of your gift. You're become an amazing, kind, compassionate, brilliant and intelligent woman and your mother and I couldn't be prouder." he said, speaking from his heart.

Hermione felt tears form in the corners of her eyes. "Thank you, Daddy." she muttered, using the same nickname she used for him when she was a child.

A comfortable silence formed following the heartful conversation. As Hermione watched the road forward, she noticed something strange. "Dad? Is that smoke?" she asked, pointing at the bonnet where a thin wisp of white smoke was slowly escaping.

"Shit." her father cursed. Hermione felt a jolt as Daniel put the foot on the brake, quickly slowing the car to a standstill next to a large field. He turned the ignition key, shutting off the engine. He then removed his seatbelt and exited, Hermione following after him.

Daniel lifted the hood of the car and quickly pulled his face away as smoke flew in his face. "For Christ's sake." he muttered, waving his hand in front of his face to blow the smoke away.

Hermione looked inside the bonnet as the smoke dissipated. Knowing little to nothing about cars, she could not discern what was wrong. "What happened?"

"I don't know." her father said. "But this car isn't going anywhere anytime soon, that is certain."

Hermione bit her lip. "What are we going to do?" she asked quietly.

"Call a tow truck." he sighed. "Hopefully, there's one nearby." he said, pulling out his phone. They were about ten minutes from reaching the Silverstone village, which was right next to the circuit of the same name.

While her father was making a non-emergency call to the police for help, Hermione looked around for any cars passing by. Five minutes went by without seeing a trace of anyone else, which frustrated the young woman. It was a Grand Prix weekend and they were right next to the circuit. How was nobody passing by?

Then, she heard the sound of an engine. Looking in its direction, she found a black four-door Honda going down the same road as them. Relieved, Hermione made herself visible, her thumb up.

The car pulled to the side of the road and stopped behind their broken car. The driver's door opened. Hermione let out a small gasp of surprise.

A man about the same age as her stepped out of the Honda. He had a mess of dark hair and the most striking green eyes she had ever seen. On his forehead was a strange cut that reminded her of a lightning bolt. He was well built, not burly and overly muscular but not thin and lanky either. He was - there was no other word for it - handsome, and incredibly so.

Her eyes then found the clothes he was wearing. While the black pants were nothing special, his shirt was. It was white with beige, almost brown sleeves. What really caught her eyes though were the various brands plastered over it. The words "Look Alike" surrounded by a black circle was on the right side of his chest. Hermione knew enough about Formula One to recognize it was a shirt of one of the teams.

"Hi. Need some help?" the man asked, his green eyes looking at her. Hermione cleared her throat, trying not to blush and show how much his eyes affected her.

"Uh - yes - hi!" she blurted, making him chuckle slowly. "My dad and I were going to the British Grand Prix when something happened to our engine." she said. "My dad's on the phone calling for a tow truck. I was wondering if you could bring us to the circuit. I see you have a Formula One shirt so I assume you're a fan going there anyway so hopefully you can take us there as well - if you don't mind, that is." she finished.

"A fan?" the man repeated, looking slightly baffled.

"Yes?" she asked, confused. "Aren't you one?"

The man was silent for a brief moment before he chuckled. "Yes, I suppose I am a fan," he said. He was about to say something else when Hermione's father came back, his phone in his hand.

"A tow truck should be here in five to ten minutes." he told his daughter before spotting the man. "Hi, I'm Daniel Granger." he said, extending his free hand. The man shook it.

"Harry," he said simply.

"And I'm Hermione." Hermione added, realizing she had not introduced herself yet.

"Hermione." he repeated quietly, like he was tasting the name on his tongue. "I like it."

Hermione could not stop the blush this time. "Thanks." she said. Thankfully, her voice sounded normal enough. She then turned to her father. "I was asking Harry if he minded taking us to the track before you came." she said, summarizing the conversation.

"That would leave us free from calling a cab." Daniel muttered to himself. "I can't imagine there's any available here." He turned to Harry. "If you don't mind, that is."

"No, it's fine, don't worry." Harry said, waving his concerns aside. "Hermione and I can wait in the car while you take care of this, sir." he told him.

Hermione observed her father give Harry a look, almost like he was trying to sniff out any bad intentions from the man. Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing immediately what he was doing.

"Dad, it's fine. I'm twenty, not thirteen. You don't need to act all protective whenever a boy looks in my direction." she said, making him flush in embracement, like he himself only just realized what he was doing. Harry laughed.

"Don't worry. I understand. My father does the same with my sister even though she's eighteen." He then frowned. "Mind you, it might be warranted since the only bloke she dated so far broke her heart." he muttered to himself before shaking his head. "Anyway, what I'm saying is that you don't have to worry about anything."

"Well, I don't." Hermione said, smiling at him. "See you when you're done, Dad." she told her father before stepping toward Harry, who caught the hint and led her to his car.

Harry sat down on the driver's side. For a moment, Hermione wondered where to sit before deciding to take the front passenger side. If she was going to wait with him for the tow truck, she might as well sit next to him instead of behind him.

"So, do you attend Formula One races often?" Harry asked her.

"Not really. I'm not really a fan myself. The only other time I went to a race was to the 1984 British Grand Prix. It's one of my earliest memories in fact. I remember sitting on Dad's shoulders while watching the cars go around." she said, looking at her father with a fond smile.

"Sounds like your father's a fan, then."

Hermione laughed. "That's an understatement, if anything. He practically lives for Formula One. I fully believe he is ready to give up everything but my mother and I if it meant he could be part of the sport in one way or another."

"That much, huh?" he chuckled as she nodded. "Is he a fan of any driver in particular?"

"I don't believe there is a name that stands over the others but I know he loves any British drivers around. He told me yesterday he really wanted to see the new driver on track with his own eyes. I don't remember his name. Porter, or something."

"Potter?" he asked, perking up.

"Exactly!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "Are you a fan of his as well?" she asked him, having noticed his reaction.

Harry laughed. "You could say that," he said, sounding like he was in on a secret.

"I know nothing about him, if I'm honest." she said with a grin. "Again, I don't follow Formula One. But my dad said he was a one-of-a-kind talent and would probably win a World Championship within a few years."

He whistled. "Lots of expectations on shoulders so young."

Hermione shrugged. "He loves his British drivers. He was overjoyed when Nigel Mansell won the championship in '92, and again when Damon Hill did as well in '96. He fully believes Potter is the next generation of British World Champions."

"I hope he's right." Harry muttered to himself.

"What about you?" she asked. "Any driver you're a fan of?"

He chuckled. "Well, I always admired Jean Alesi." he said. "I used to love Michael Schumacher - until Jerez in '97. I still highly respect the man, but I'm not too impressed with his sporting behaviour."

Hermione frowned. "Jerez '97... Jerez '97..." she repeated, thinking. The words tickled her mind. "It sounds familiar. What happened?"

"It was the finale of the 1997 season. Michael crashed on purpose into his championship rival Jacques Villeneuve to take him out of the race, which would have given him the championship since he had more points. He might have gotten away with it too, if the same hadn't happened in '94."

"Oh, that's right! I remember that! My dad was really rooting for Villeneuve that year. Said he was Canadian which was as good as British in his eyes since he's from the Commonwealth." she said. Harry laughed.

"Your father sounds like the kind of man I would want to watch a race with. He's very funny."

"You should tell him that." she chuckled.

Hermione found herself oddly comfortable in Harry's presence, despite having just met. She felt like she could spend entire days speaking to him without tiring. His presence felt natural, like they'd known each other for years.

Soon after, Hermione noticed a tow truck appear further down the road. She looked down at her watch. It had only been five minutes. "Wow, they work fast." she commented.

"We aren't exactly far from the village." Harry said. Hermione hummed. They watched as a mechanic looked under the hood of the car before telling something to Daniel. Her father then signed some things and the broken car was loaded on the tow truck. The truck departed, leaving him free to come to them.

Daniel opened one of the back passenger doors and sat down. "I didn't expect you to be sitting at the front, Hermione."

Hermione shrugged while she and Harry put on their seatbelts. "Harry and I were talking. Made sense to sit next to him."

"Hey, not judging!" he said, giving her a knowing look. Hermione looked away, her cheeks slightly pink.

"So, what was wrong with your car?" Harry asked, sounding interested.

"Blown spark-plug, from the sounds of it. Shouldn't be hard to fix, but the problem is that the garage doesn't have a lot of mechanics on hand since it's the weekend, and they are already busy with other cars, so ours might not be repaired until tomorrow."

"How will we go back to the hotel, then?" Hermione asked, biting her lip once more.

"We'll have to take a cab. Nothing more."

There was a brief moment of silence before Harry spoke. "So, ready to go?" he asked, igniting the engine of his car.

"Yep. Let's roll, Mr. Harry!" he exclaimed excitedly. Hermione rolled her eyes once again while Harry chuckled.

The car drove away to their famous destination: Silverstone Circuit.

Hermione could not understand how she got stuck in this situation. One moment, she was enjoying watching the Qualification session with her father. The next moment, she was sitting outside the entrance of the circuit, kicked out of the event. How did that happen?

Well, it all began when her father received a call from the garage in the middle of Qualifying, who asked him to come to handle some of the paperwork of the car. Hermione, not wanting her father to miss part of the session when they were here for his birthday, offered to go to the garage to take care of the situation in his stead. Her father thanked her and gave her his wallet in case she needed something from it.

Hermione's trip to the garage had been quick thanks to a shuttle service that allowed people to move between the village and circuit quickly. Once there, she walked to the garage and quickly handled whatever was needed. Ten minutes after entering, she was leaving back to the circuit.

Which brought her to her current situation. When she reached the gates, she was surprised to be barred from entering. From what she was told by security, her pass had already been activated for today's session, meaning they believed her to have a counterfeit in her hands. Hermione tried to tell her that she was the one to activate it in the first place, that she left for half an hour to take care of their broken car at the local garage before coming back, but the guards heard none of it.

So, Hermione was stuck waiting outside for the next fifteen minutes until the Qualifying session ended. And, she will probably have to wait another fifteen to twenty minutes until her father left the circuit - if he didn't wait for her when they were sitting, that is.

Hermione sighed and put her face in her hands. It was a few minutes before she heard a voice speak to her. "Miss? Are you alright?" he asked. Hermione looked up and was surprised to see who stood in front of her.

"Harry?" she gasped.

But that wasn't right, as she quickly figured out. Harry had striking green eyes and a scar on his forehead. The man who stood in front of her, while highly similar to Harry, wasn't him. His eyes were hazel and the strange scar was lacking. Not only that, but the man also wore glasses, which wasn't the case for Harry. And, he looked significantly older, like he was in his forties.

The eyebrows of the Harry-lookalike rose. "I wasn't aware you were familiar with my son," he said.

"Son? You're Harry's father?" she asked, surprised. It was an understatement to say they looked similar!

The man shrugged. "Well, I have a son named Harry who look just like me, but with his beautiful mother's green eyes."

"That would be him." she said, remembering the green eyes that made her feel weak. No wonder Harry's father called them beautiful! Or did he call Harry's mother beautiful? It was probably both, now that she thought about it.

Harry's father sat down next to her. "So, how did you meet my son?" he asked.

"My dad and I were coming here when our engine blew. A spark plug, apparently." she explained. "I saw a car drive by and signaled them that we needed help. It was Harry, and he offered to drive us here since he was coming too."

Harry's father chuckled. "Sounds like him." he said. "He inherited his mother's heart of gold." He then extended a hand toward her. "I'm James, by the way. James Potter."

"Hermione. Hermione Granger." she said, shaking his head. It was then the name struck her. "Wait. Did you say Potter? As in the driver?" she asked, her eyes widening as she realized the truth.

James grinned. "You came to the track with my son yet didn't realize he's a Formula One driver?"

Hermione could only gape. She remembered talking about the rookie Potter with Harry, not realizing they were the same! Some of his comments now made more sense. She flushed at his amused look. "I never saw Potter's face nor knew his name and Harry only introduced himself as 'Harry'! I didn't know they were one and the same!" she loudly said, making the man laugh.

"Well, that's a new one." he chuckled, making her glare at him.

Hermione then groaned. "On my god. I repeated to Harry all the praise my father had for Potter without knowing they were the same person! He must have been so embarrassed!" James somehow laughed even harder. "Stop it! It's not funny!" she said with a glare.

"Well it is!" he said, still laughing. "This is just excellent!"

"If you're just going to laugh at me, then you might as well leave, Mr. Potter. My situation is already bad enough as it is." she grumbled quietly. Her words were enough to kill his laughter. He now looked at her with concerned eyes.

"What do you mean, Hermione?" he asked.

Hermione sighed. "I came here with my father for his birthday. He's a big fan, you see?" she said, making him nod. "Well, like I told you, our engine broke down while coming here. Forty minutes ago, the garage called my father because they needed someone to handle some paperwork. Since Qualifying had just begun and we were attending for his birthday, I offered to go instead so he wouldn't miss a thing. Thirty minutes later, I came back and tried to enter the circuit but I was blocked." She took her pass in her hands. "Apparently, that thing was already activated once and, in their eyes, it means I copied someone else's pass as counterfeit. I tried to tell them that I was the one who activated it earlier, that I had to leave for a time. But they didn't budge. Now, I'm afraid they'll stop me from entering tomorrow thinking I carry a fake pass with me." She chuckled bitterly. "Hundred of pounds and that thing is probably useless now."

James was silent for a moment. Then, he said "I can help you, if you want."

Hermione looked at him, her eyes full of confusion. "What do you mean?"

James shrugged. "I'm one of the special guests of British American Racing - the team my son drives for. As a team's special guest, I have some pull and a special pass. They can't refuse me unless the team tells them to. I'll simply tell them that you came with me. They won't kick you out then."

"Would you really help me?" she asked, hopeful. James nodded.

"You don't deserve to be treated this way, for once. And second, you seem to have befriended my son. He's a Formula One driver and people have tried to use him to further their own interests. Yet, when you found out the truth about who he was, never once did I see lust, or greed, or interest in your eyes. You didn't start asking private questions, or build up your relationship with him to make yourself look closer to him than you are, or ask me favours. You simply accepted it, without treating acting any differently."

Hermione blushed under the praise. "I'm not really a fan of Formula One." she muttered. "I'm here for my father first. Harry being one of the drivers doesn't change how I see him. He's still the man who helped me and my dad when we needed someone to help. He's still the handsome man with the striking green eyes-" She suddenly slapped a hand on her mouth. "Did I say that aloud?" she squeaked. The only answer she got was a loud laugh from James. Hermione groaned, embarrassed.

"Hey, don't worry about it." he said, clapping her back goodheartedly. "I know the effect those eyes can have. After all, my son got them from his mother, and her eyes got me hooked from the moment we were eleven-year-old." he chuckled.

"They are beautiful eyes..." she whispered before blushing, realizing she spoke aloud once more.

James chuckled again and stood up. "Now, come on. The session will soon end and I want to be in the garage when my son pull in the pits."

Hermione stood up and followed after him. Thanks to James, she had no issues entering the circuit this time. James even had the presence of mind to tell security to send a message to Hermione's father about his daughter's wereabout.

"Please tell... wait a moment." He turned to Hermione. "What is your father's name?" he asked her.

"Daniel Granger. He's sitting in the Copse A grandstand." she told security.

"Tell Daniel Granger that his daughter is back and fine and that she can meet him at the entrance instead of waiting for her over there." he told them before walking away. Hermione followed after him, eyebrows raised.

"Can't I simply go to him?" she asked him.

"Well, you could." he shrugged. "But by the time you'll be there, the session will be over. It would make your life easier to stay close to the paddock instead. So I thought better have security handle your old man so he doesn't worry about you."

Hermione wondered who James Potter was exactly to allow him to order security around without being told off. "Wandering around doesn't sound much better than sitting outside." she told him.

James grinned. "True. Which is why I offer you to follow me to the B.A.R. garage."

Hermione gaped. "Really? You're inviting me there?"

"Why not? I'm sure Harry will be happy to see you." he said with a teasing wink, making her blush. He chuckled again at her reaction. Apparently, James liked to laugh.

Hermione followed in silence as James led her to the garages. Hermione felt like an outsider who didn't belong. But, she was amazed when she first entered. James quickly passed her noise-reduction earmuffs, a necessity with screaming engines nearby. She put them on before giving her first look at the garage.

On the left side was one bright white Formula One car with the number '22' on the rear wing. It had red circles surrounded by black outlines on the sides and a silver nose at the front. Next to it was its driver Jacques Villeneuve talking to one of the race engineers. The other side of the garage was empty. Hermione guessed this was Harry's side of the garage. Since his car was missing, it meant he was currently on track.

She wondered how Harry would react when he would see her here with his father. Would he be happy? Or would he be uncomfortable? After all, they only met once earlier that day. She would be a bit hurt but not surprised if he felt uncomfortable in her presence. She was just some girl he helped out once, after all. He might interpret her presence as her suddenly wanting something out of him.

Hermione was taken out of her musings when she was nudged on the shoulder. She looked next to her to find a grinning James, who pointed toward one of the television monitors attached to the ceiling. It showed a white car identical to the one sitting feet away from her. The name "Harry Potter" was written at the bottom of the screen with a big 'P6' next to it. Members of the team were clapping around her, letting her guess what that number meant. Harry qualified sixth out of twenty-two cars which, for the fledgling team, was a great result.

"That's amazing!" she shouted. But James likely did not hear her as a blue Formula One race car passed by the garage on its way out to the circuit for a last chance at a fast lap, the engine loudly covering any other sounds.

Another car arrived a few minutes later. But, this time, it was a white B.A.R. car belonging to none other than Harry himself. Harry stopped the car in front of the garage and engineers quickly ran out to lift it up and pull it back inside. This freed Harry to stand out of the car, allowing Hermione to see his white, black and brown race suit. He quickly removed his gloves, dropping them on the top of the cockpit, before removing his bright red helmet and the balaclava he wore under, revealing his sweaty face.

Hermione observed as an engineer moved to speak to Harry. Harry listened while removing something from his ears (a communication device, perhaps?). It was while he was nodding to something the engineer said that Harry's green eyes traveled to the back of the garage to find Hermione's. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Hermione? What are you doing here?" he asked after finishing his conversation with the engineer. He gave her and his father a baffled look. The duo removed their noise-canceling earmuffs.

"I found her on the side of the road!" James answered with a grin.

"What?" Harry asked, bemused.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I had an issue with security and Mr. Potter helped me out." she said. At Harry's confused look, she explained. "The garage called my father at the beginning of the session. They needed him to handle some paperwork so I offered to go so he wouldn't miss a thing. When I came back, security refused to let me in because my pass was already activated this session and, no matter what I said. they couldn't seem to comprehend that I was the one who activated it earlier. But they stuck with their idea that I was trying to sneak in with a copied pass so they kept me out." she finished with a small grumble.

"They didn't treat you badly, did they?" Harry asked.

She shook her head, finding his concern touching. "They were polite but stern."

"I found her sitting on the side of the parking lot outside." James said with a shrug. "Asked her what was wrong, found out she met you earlier and what happened with security. I decided to help her out and bring her here so you could be with each other!" he told him with a big smirk. Harry felt his cheeks burn. By the way hers turned red, so did she.

He coughed. "Well thanks, Dad."

Hermione cleared her throat, also sounding embarrassed. "Well, anyway, the session is over and my father is likely looking for me so…" she said, giving a nod toward the exit.

"Are we boring you? You don't have to stay if you don't want to." James said teasingly.

Hermione flushed. "It's not that!" she exclaimed. "I'm grateful! I am! And I am happy to… to have met Harry again," she blushed a bit at her words. "But I don't want to keep my Dad waiting and-"

"It's alright, Hermione." Harry interrupted with a smile. "We'll see you later."

Hermione nodded and, after giving him a smile which made his stomach flutter, left, leaving the two Potter men alone (along with an army of engineers and mechanics working on the cars).

"'We'll see you later.'?" James quoted, smirking.

"Shut up, Dad." he returned, sounding embarrassed. The older man chuckled.

There was a pause. "She's a sweet girl." he told his son seriously.

"Yeah." Harry agreed, his eyes still staring in the direction Hermione had left.

There was a pause. "You should ask her out."

"What?! Dad!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"Harry!" the man returned in the same tone. "I saw the looks you gave each other. You're both hooked! And, I have it on good authority that she loves these eyes of yours." he added with a smirk.

"Dad…" the Formula One driver groaned.

"But in all seriousness, I do believe you should ask her out."

"You're serious? You want me to ask out a girl I met on a Formula One paddock after what happened with Ginny?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"This girl isn't anything like Ginny." James said with a sigh. "I can tell she doesn't care at all that you're a famous and rich sports star, nor is she going to use you and your fame to further her own gains." James eventually said. "Do you know she had no idea who you were until twenty minutes ago?"

"I suspected it." he admitted, remembering their conversation in the car.

"It was only until I told her my last name after I introduced myself as your father that she realized who you were. And, do you know what she told me?" Harry shook his head. "She said it did not change anything, that you were still the good man with the striking green eyes who helped her and her father out."

"Really?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Yes." James smiled, seeing his son was indeed interested in the brunette, despite his denial. "So, give her a chance, will you? I have the same feelings about you and her as I did with me and your mum when I met her."

"I'll think about it." Harry conceded. He couldn't deny the idea was tempting.

"Make your mind before your they show up tonight. You know how your mother and sister can be." he smirked.

"They'll be insufferable!" he groaned, making James roar in laughter. They both knew the interest the Potter women had in Harry's love life.

"They'll love her." James said, patting his son in the back.